


Is she choosing me?

by WantMyDamnCup



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26307133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WantMyDamnCup/pseuds/WantMyDamnCup
Summary: Short little rant. Can’t sleep :(





	Is she choosing me?

Does she really love me?

I wonder this as she lays beside me. Her chest rises and falls with each breath. She looks so peaceful, unbothered. 

I turn back up. The ceiling seems to stare at me, judging me. 

My answer would immediately yes, of course she loves me. We’ve been in love for years. But maybe that’s just me hoping, and lying to myself.

Maybe she likes me. Maybe she felt she loved me at one point, but her flame for me died down. And she is too scared to tell me, break my heart, let me down. She knows it’ll leave me broken if I’m left all alone. But if that’s the case..

Would I want her to tell me?

I know I wouldn’t be able to recover if she if. Everything would remind me of her. Her smell is imprinted on my sheets.

I don’t know if I want to die this way.

My heart has been broken so many times before and I don’t know if I could take it again. I love her. I wonder if she knows how much I love her. Or if she understands. Maybe even feels the same.

That’s what I hope for.

Everytime I see her smile, I can’t help but smile back. Or when she looks at me like I’m all shes ever wanted, my heart starts beating faster. I know this is love, this is the love I want.

So why don’t other people understand?

Everyone tells me not to worry what others say, what they think of me, what they whisper about me when I’m not around to hear it. But it’s hard when it’s all they do.

Judge us for who we are, how we talk, look, speak, for how we love. Like we are constantly up for inspection from family, friends, even strangers. And somehow someone is always let down. 

I don’t want to continue to hurt her. I know she loves me, or at least, she says she does. But I wonder if she would ever be happier if she had never met me. Never saw my face, never heard my voice. Maybe I should stop before it’s too late. Before she’s so attached, before I’m so attached, we can’t live without one another.

‘Oh doll, why are you crying?’ 

Her tired voice brings me back. She’s awake, just barely, and alarmed. So worried about me. She pulls me into her arms. Pets my hair as sniffles into her t-shirt. She smells so wonderful. And she’s so warm. 

She doesn’t ask again. 

So, maybe she is choosing me. Maybe we aren’t the problem. 

But it’s hard to feel chosen when everyone is telling you that your love isn’t real.

I fall back asleep in her arms. Or at least, I dream she’s here with me. I miss her so.

Because I definitely would choose her.


End file.
